


Bad Day

by DarkerThanDisney (Kairyn)



Series: Son of Jafar [16]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Drug Addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22353283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kairyn/pseuds/DarkerThanDisney
Summary: Sobriety isn't easy. Even if you've been that way for a while.
Relationships: Harry Hook/Jay
Series: Son of Jafar [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/988839
Comments: 10
Kudos: 96





	Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pyro_Psychotic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyro_Psychotic/gifts).



> So, for once, you all don't have Ragnaroq to blame/thank for this. This time it's Pyro_Psychotic who did this. Introducing me to songs and such... how dare... Have a one shot and go listen to Sober by Bad Wolves to share my new music fling.
> 
> This is set after In The Rough is done so I guess future fic?

Harry was reading through a long rambling document about lead poisoning. Something more and more Isle kids were being diagnosed with or were suspected of having had. Harry had never heard of anything like it before, but from what he was reading, it sounded very nasty. Something about old drinking pipes and paint supplies. Considering how his work often dealt with the newest batch of Isle kids, Harry had thought it was probably best to figure out what he might be dealing with. He was kind of regretting reading the report, though. It was depressing and full of words beyond his level. What he did understand, however, brought up unpleasant questions. 

More than one kid Harry had grown up with had some of the symptoms he was reading about. Most of those symptoms had been written off as just having lousy food or poor luck. There hadn't been a reason to look much deeper than that. Especially since nothing could be done about it. And that was if they would have even been able to figure it out. Harry doubted that anyone on the Isle of the Lost would think that the old peeling paint on the walls was causing kids to get sick.

Harry still wished that the text was a little easier to understand. Was there a laymen's version available, he wondered?

Just then, Harry's phone buzzed on his desk, and a few bars of a particularly raunchy song about having a sexy devil of a partner rang out. Harry's boss was always on him to change the ringtone, but Harry still hadn't given in. He didn't much care about 'appropriate for office environments' or anything like that. It fit his lover perfectly. The ring only lasted those few bars, though, so that meant a text message. Harry frowned and put his papers down.

Having Jay text him was incredibly unusual. Jay was notoriously terrible about keeping his phone on or around him. All Djinn seemed to be, but Jay was particularly bad about it, in Harry's opinion. Hell, the only reason Jay always had his phone at practice was because of Harry. Hook had gotten fed up with being unable to reach Jay and had taken to charging the stupid phone himself and being sure to put it in Jay's bag before either of them left in the morning. And even having the phone there, Jay hardly ever used it. Jay would rather wait to get home and talk to Harry face-to-face.

Therefore, to be getting a text now meant it was something that really couldn't wait. Harry picked up his phone and quickly unlocked it. The text from Jay was predictably short for someone who hardly ever used his phone. It just said, 'Need u hom.' Harry frowned. Not at the misspelling. He was plenty used to that, but the fact that he had gotten a message at all.

Jay could call Harry home for any number of reasons, and each of those reasons had their own way of guaranteeing to work out like how the Djinn wanted. A booty call? A picture of Jay's bare chest (or pretty much any body part) would have Harry dropping what he was doing in a heartbeat. Or, if he was feeling like he needed a different kind of booty call, adding the word 'Doll' to the end of that text would have told Harry immediately. Harry was really starting to appreciate and look forward to those encounters. Okay, maybe 'any number' was an exaggeration. Those two instances were really all Jay would typically call Harry home for. 

If it was something like Jay had broken something in the flat, he would have just sent a picture; Jay always preferred communicating in ways that weren't based on writing. And something broken wouldn't need Harry to come home. Jay wouldn't consider being injured something to tell Harry about until he got back at his normal time. Unless it was life-threatening, in which case that was the only time Jay would physically call Harry.

Harry quickly dialed in Jay's number as he got up from his seat and tossed various papers and files into his drawer to lock up as it rang. Jay didn't pick up, which was incredibly alarming considering he'd _just_ texted Harry in the first place. Harry only paused long enough to tell his supervisor he had to go home before running out the door.

Harry's bike was violently red and a gift from Jay when he'd made it onto Auradon's professional Tourney team. They paid really well in professional sports apparently, and Jay was more than happy to be the exact opposite of his father whenever possible. Hence, Jay was extremely popular due to just giving vast amounts of his money away to whoever or whatever got his attention at the time. They'd probably have nowhere to live if it weren't for Harry. Harry was the one who paid attention to things like rent. But that was fine with Harry since Jay got very uncomfortable with the idea of bills. Paid cash for everything he could manage and in full so that he wouldn't owe on anything. The first time they'd gotten a bill come due in the mail, Jay had nearly had a panic attack that took Harry almost an hour to talk him down from. And Jay still refused to talk to anyone about his hang-ups and general anxiety with money. Harry didn't push it -he knew a losing battle when he saw one.

With Harry's bike and his admittedly reckless driving habits (he had about six tickets he kept forgetting to pay), it only took him about ten minutes to get home. They were on the top floor of the Triton Towers apartments. It was a three-wing apartment complex owned by one of King Triton's many daughters. They probably wouldn't have picked it except Uma had a flat here as well, although in a completely different wing (the wing that had a massive infinity pool on the roof). Harry parked his bike in his usual spot beside Jay's flashy convertible that Mal had gone to town on with a full wrap of a paint job. They weren't particularly close to the elevator, but seeing how it was the middle of the day, Harry could cut across most of the currently empty parking spots of the garage to reach it quicker.

The elevator was a little slow for Harry's tastes. Still, at least it was empty, and there wasn't any annoying music like there was at the one in the doctor's office. That one made Harry want to hook someone. He was already digging his keys out from his pockets as he stepped out of the elevator and started down the hall. They were eight units down and to the right. The corner unit because Jay had shelled out for the chance to have more windows. They both really liked seeing the open sky.

Harry unlocked the door and let himself in. "Gorgeous?" he called, even as he closed the door and locked it again. He was sure to put the deadbolt and fasten the security chain. He heard Jay call back that he was in the living room. Harry made sure to flick the last two locks on the door that Jay had installed before going to the living room where his partner was. "Wha's wron- oh."

Jay was sprawled across the couch with his right arm in a sling and his other over his eyes. "They said I dislocated my shoulder and can't play 'til it heals," Jay muttered. "Like a dislocated shoulder is serious or something."

Harry nodded a bit and dropped his keys on the table. "Ya okay?" Harry asked as he sat down on the edge of that same table. A dislocated shoulder didn't seem important enough of an injury for Jay to demand Harry home for.

Jay lifted his hand to glare at the other man. "It's just a dislocation. _You've_ dislocated my shoulder before, Harry."

"Ya punched me in the face," Harry replied casually.

"It was a turf fight, Harry," Jay said in exasperation.

"Xactly," Harry said with a grin. His smile fell just a moment later. "So, why ya text me?"

Jay was quiet for several minutes. "At first they thought I tore something," he said as he looked up at the ceiling. "Said I'm terrible at telling them how much something actually hurts."

"Well, yeah," Harry said. Jay _was_ terrible at that. All Isle kids were. There was even a name for it now: Isle Tolerance.

"So, the new assistant to the team doc... I guess she didn't read my sheet close enough or something," Jay said as he continued steadfastly, not looking over at Harry. Jay had a look on his face that he was trying to build up to something, so Harry kept his mouth shut and waited. "... she tried to give me a morphine shot."

Harry was on his feet before he even realized it. "What?!"

"Harry!" Jay turned to grab Harry's wrist with his arm that wasn't in a sling. "I didn't text you to go kill some lady who missed a note on my sheet. Chill."

There was little chance of Harry doing that. After all the shit that Jay had gone through because of that stuff, the idea that someone had tried to put it back into their lives was infuriating. Even if it was an accident. But Jay was looking at him with that slightly haunted look he wore when he woke up from a nightmare, so Harry forced himself to take a deep breath. Who had said that helped calm the desire to murder? Because it never worked.

"Harry," Jay said with a slight tug on Harry's wrist. "You think I can't kill some lady myself if I wanted her dead?"

Jay was right, of course. Neither of them really needed to protect each other. They'd grown up fighting their own battles (sometimes against each other) and could more than handle someone from Auradon. But that wasn't the point. Harry _wanted_ to protect Jay. Especially from something like this that had been so insidious and hard to get rid of the first time. But Jay didn't seem to want -nor need- protection at the moment. 

There was another pause, and then Harry nudged Jay's side with his knee. "Scoot yer fine ass."

Jay rolled his eyes but pushed himself up with one arm and shifted to make room for Harry on the couch. Harry had to force himself into the space. That just meant that when they both laid back down, Jay was curled up on his chest, and Harry wasn't opposed to that at all. The two of them stayed there on the couch, and Harry played with Jay's long hair. 

After a little while, Harry wasn't sure how long precisely, Jay started to shake slightly. Harry wasn't entirely surprised. Jay had been holding himself too stiffly the whole time. Like was afraid if he relaxed at all he'd fall apart, which Harry supposed he was in the process of doing. Harry didn't say anything. That only ever made Jay stiffen up again and try to pretend like he was alright when he wasn't.

A lot of people probably wouldn't believe that Harry could _not_ talk, but he was perfectly capable when the silence was worth it. When Jay was having a mild breakdown was one of those times. Harry watched the clouds in the nearby windows and let his fingers play with Jay's hair until Jay eventually stopped trembling in his arms. They were still quiet, though. Sometimes Jay wore himself out and fell asleep while other times, he just wasn't ready to talk or move. Either way, Harry didn't need to start talking until Jay did.

The sun was starting to set when Jay shifted in Harry's arms finally. "... sorry," he murmured.

"Wha' I say 'bout ya apologizin', Gorgeous? Ya don' ever do it," Harry said. As far as Harry was concerned, Jay shouldn't ever say that word to anyone for anything. Jay didn't answer, but Harry was sure that his point was made. "Ya hungry?"

"... not really."

Harry hummed a bit and undid the knots that his fiddling had accidentally put in Jay's hair. "Prob'bly should eat somethin' anyway." 

Jay shifted to look up at Harry. "How about you?"

A grin quickly found its way onto Harry's face. "Well, I ain't crazy 'nough ta turn down tha,'" he said as his hand drifted down Jay's back. "Bu' after how 'bout we order in somethin'?"

"What would you want?" Jay asked as he shifted somewhat less gracefully than usual so that he was sitting up.

"Tha' Chinese place?" Harry suggested.

"You going to get that spicy dish you like and complain for hours after about how you shouldn't have gotten it?" Jay asked, one eyebrow raised up. 

Harry grinned widely. "Maybe. Why?" 

Jay shrugged his good shoulder. "Hey, it's your stomach. We can get it if you want," he said casually. Jay wasn't picky about his food.

"Mm, yer a gem, gorgeous," Harry said as he rubbed Jay's hips. Harry's smile fell a little bit. "Ya sure yer okay, Jay?"

So many emotions flit across Jay's face in quick succession that Harry couldn't decipher them all. Harry didn't really like a lot of the expressions his lover made, though. They reminded Harry that sometimes Jay still felt like he had to censor himself and what he really wanted to say. "... ask me later," Jay said.

Harry nodded. "Sure thing, Jay."

Jay leaned forward, his hair sliding forward like a curtain to block out Harry's view of anything other than Jay's face. "You know I love you, right?" Jay asked.

The son of Hook felt his heart melt, though he'd heard Jay say that before, the actual words were such a rare pleasure. Harry smiled and lifted a hand to Jay's face. His cheek fit perfectly against Harry's palm. "Course I do, Gorgeous. An' I luv ya too," Harry said. "More'n anything."

"Mm, anything?"

"Yeah," Harry said before guiding Jay down into a kiss. After several minutes of chasing each other's tongues and tasting each little nook and cranny, Harry pulled back. "I'm proud a ya, Gorgeous."

Jay blinked a few times. "For what?"

"Tellin' 'em not ta give ya tha' crap," Harry said.

Jay pulled back enough to sit upright. He pushed his hand through his hair, getting the long strands out of his face. "... almost didn't," he murmured so softly that Harry almost missed it.

"Bu' ya did," Harry insisted, pushing himself up as well. "Tha's the important part." Jay still didn't look convinced. Harry could tell the whole situation had shaken him more than he wanted to let onto. Unfortunately for him, Harry had years of experience reading Jay. Harry pulled Jay closer and, though it was a little awkward because of the sling, wrapped his arms around his lover securely.

At first, Jay didn't do much, but slowly he curled into Harry, resting his head on his partner's shoulder and using his uninjured arm to hold them together just as tight. Harry supposed this answered that question. Jay wasn't alright yet. "... how 'bout a bath, hmm?" Harry suggested.

Jay shook his head. "I don't want to have sex in the bath, Harry."

"No sex," Harry said. "Jus' a bath."

There was at least a full minute of silence, and then Jay nodded. "Sure," he murmured. Harry tilted his head to press a quick kiss to Jay's temple but didn't do more than that. Jay would loosen his grip when he was ready to. Until then, it wasn't any sort of difficulty for Harry to hold his boyfriend after a bad day.


End file.
